Max hasn’t shut up about my sudden determination to keep her with us since I told her she wasn’t going anywhere near the palace or her mother. He thinks it’s a mistake, but what the fuck else is new? We’ve been doing things differently our entire lives. Yeah, we’re both determined to do whatever it takes to get to Milla—it’s just that our whatevers almost always vary.
The alarm is still ringing—in fact, it seems to be getting louder—and I expect us to crash at any moment. It’s been that sort of day.
That sort of year, actually.
But as I finally make it to the bridge, I skid to a halt. Because Gage and Max are just sitting there, talking loudly. Completely ignoring the blaring alarm. “What the fuck is going on?” I yell to be heard over the noise.
Gage shrugs. “Everything came to life about five minutes ago. I pressed that big red button over there—” He waves a hand at the big red button in question.
“Why?” I demand. Did the asshole think we didn’t have enough problems? He needed to create more?
“Because it’s big and red and I wanted to see what it would do.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
And, okay. Sure. What else are big red buttons for if not for morons to press? But I still need to know: “What did it do?”
“Nothing. But the alarm started about thirty seconds later.”
“Well, did you push it again?”
“Didn’t seem like the best idea, considering who knows what it did the first time.”
I look at Max. “Is this guy for real?”
He gives me an amused look. “Apparently.”
“Next time, remind me to spring for the top-of-the-line rogue technician, because this bargain-basement version doesn’t seem worth the planetas we paid for him.”
Then I walk over and push the big red button for what is apparently the second time. Because it’s big and red and how much worse can we be fucked than we are already?
“Hey, don’t—” Gage starts but breaks off when the alarm stops. “Oh. Okay, then.” He grins like he’s the cleverest guy ever created. “I’m guessing the big red button is a manually activated alarm.”
“How can someone that smart with technology also be this ridiculous about everything else?” I mentally roll my eyes.
“Is there a word for below bargain basement?” Max asks dryly.
“If there isn’t, there should be.” I turn to Gage. “Don’t press any buttons unless you know what they do.”
“Well, that’s no fun.”
“Because everything else about this day has been a real party,” I growl.
“Emergency over?” a voice asks from the doorway. I turn to see Beckett standing in the doorway to the bridge. Seconds later, the high priestess and Merrick appear behind her. The little blonde looks flustered, her cheeks pink. It’s a good look for her.
The scowl on her big friend’s face, not so much. Which makes me think it wasn’t him who put the color in her cheeks.
There’s still no sign of the princess—not that it matters to me. No skin off my ass what she’s doing, as long as it isn’t sabotaging this ship. Still, it pisses me off that I even noticed.
“There was no emergency,” I answer. “Just a jerk pressing buttons.”
“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that,” Gage tells me. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you to love yourself?”
And people wonder why I claimed control of this little shit show. The only person on this ship I trust besides myself is Max. And he sure as fuck doesn’t want to be in charge.
I flip Gage off as I settle into the captain’s chair I claimed earlier.
Beckett strolls across the floor, taking in the array of flashing lights and lit screens on the forward console. “So, she’s finally up and running?”
“For all the good it does us,” I answer with a shrug. “We still have no idea how to fly her.”
She looks at Max. “Move.”
He lifts his brows as he stares back at her. But he moves, because he’s Max and he tends not to make a fuss. At least not until he decides it’s time to make a fuss.
He’s in the seat right at the nose of the ship, and Beckett slides into it like she owns the thing.
“What are you doing?” I ask, ’cause I sure as shit don’t trust her to have her own best interests at heart, let alone anyone else’s.
“Flying.” She glances over her shoulder. “Don’t get your feelings hurt, big boy. You can still keep the fancy chair and call yourself captain.”
I think about arguing with her on general principle—I am the captain—but if Beckett wants to be in charge of figuring out the flying thing, who am I to get in her way? Sure, I’m an okay pilot, but Milla was the flier of our group. She was the one who kept our ship in the air and the one who solved the problems when it broke down—which was often.
No telling what she’s going to say when we finally get her back and she realizes we sold her baby to compile enough money for all the bribes we’ve had to pay out to get us this far. But I’d give up a hell of a lot more than a spaceship if it means getting Milla back.
I’d give up everything, and that, I know, she’ll understand.
But all I say to Beckett is, “I plan to.”
“Hey, looks like he can be reasonable.” She gives me a mock-impressed look. “Wonders will never cease.”
She’s in a better mood than I’ve ever seen her—which makes me wonder if she’s the one who ruffled little Miss High Priestess’s feathers. If so, I hope it’s not a one-off, because this Beckett is a lot easier to deal with. Even if she is a shit talker.
“I’d wait until you prove that you’re not all talk before you start messing with the rest of us,” Max tells her.
“Watch and learn.” She turns to the dash and starts running her hand over the various screens, buttons, and otherwise indecipherable shit.
Nothing happens.
“It’s not—”
“Hush,” she snaps at me.
A second later, the screen directly in front of her lights up. There’s a little red dot in the middle but nothing else. “That’s us,” she says.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t tell us anything. Where the hell are we?” I ask. I stand to get a better look.
“Wait.” She moves her hand again, and the image zooms out. A blue-green planet with a single moon appears on the edge of the screen. Askkandia. And it looks like we’re heading away from it.
“What’s going on?” a very recognizable voice says from behind me. Looks like the princess has decided to make an appearance at last.
I glance over my shoulder and give her a smirk.
She scowls.
“Beckett is learning to fly the ship,” Rain tells her.
“Impressive,” the princess answers, I assume just to piss me off. But I’m too glad that we finally know where we are to take offense.
But I do point out that, “We’re going in the wrong direction.”
Beckett zooms out some more, and a second planet appears, a lot farther away than Askkandia. Permuna, I think, and we’re heading straight for it. But unless my knowledge of the planets’ current orbital positions is off—which it’s not—it’s almost as far away as Vistenia.